


We're (almost) Starfleet Officers

by fencingfox



Series: This October Night [11]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: AU, F/M, Fictober 2019, Inktober 2019, Kinktober 2019, LGBTQ Character, Stitches, Whumptober 2019, where they meet at the Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 00:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20985617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencingfox/pseuds/fencingfox
Summary: B'Elanna's shipped herself to the Academy on a scholarship, finds a job, makes a friend, meets snow, and gives away her hat. She isn't sure what's next, but whatever it is, she's excited. Everything's finally looking good for once.





	We're (almost) Starfleet Officers

**Author's Note:**

> This is the _chronological_ first chapter of the _It Ends Before It Begins_ Fictober mini series.
> 
> It's canon if you squint. Just stick with me.

* * *

**| "It’s not always like this." | stitches | begging | snow |**

* * *

B'Elanna wrinkles her nose at the cold air and crosses her arms. She wasn't prepared for snow. She has a hat, but no scarf and no warm jacket. She looks up to see how far she has to go yet for warmth. It's several blocks she thinks. The slight flurries catch her eye as they drift leisurely down to the Earth. She looks up at the blue-white sky of their origin. She wasn't prepared for the beauty either. Sure it's bone-chillingly cold for her blood, but by the look of the other cadets caught outside, the weather isn't supposed to be that bad. Half of them aren't even wearing hats. B'Elanna uncrosses her arms to tug her hat down over her ears and forehead a bit more. Her fingers are already icicles against her skin. She quickly tucks them back under her arms. 

Her plan is to meet someone off-campus for a job. She needs it. When she saw the posting in the campus center, she knew she had to try. It said: Inquire at St. Mary's on Stanyon & Fulton for a part-time position if you are an engineering student. She'd been especially impressed by the subtitle: Freshmen Welcome. She takes in her surroundings as she steps past the threshold of the Academy campus. She doesn't know what a hospital needs engineering students for but she won't ask questions before she even knows what the job is. There's a woman on the street ahead of her in rags. B'Elanna looks to the road to see if it's safe to cross and avoid her, but before she can, the little girl with the woman catches her attention. The girl's lips are blue even under her copper complexion. The family isn't human, but she isn't sure what they are. She hasn't taken xenobiology yet. 

"Excuse me miss." She has an accent that reminds her of home before she'd gotten her translator installed and shipped off to Earth's San Francisco. Almost everyone here speaks Standard fluent so the translations don't carry any sort of native accent when it translates to Spanish for her. "I'm so sorry to bother you but I'm down on my luck and we've been without shelter for some time now. Can you spare us any change? Anything at all?" B'Elanna's eyes drift to the little girl. She's shivering. She wonders for a moment if they're just putting on a show for her but decides to dismiss the idea. She needs to stop judging people if she wants to get through her four years here. 

"I, uh, I don't have any change." The woman looks crestfallen to a degree but seems to have expected B'Elanna's response. B'Elanna feels the need to explain. "I'm on my to a job interview actually. But," she kneels in front of the girl. The girl looks up at her for the first time with the mixture of surprise and wonder that children wear so well. She pulls her hat off and settles it on the girl's head. "I can give you this." She'll miss the hat for the warmth, but it has no sentimental value. She hadn't even bought it herself. It was in the lost and found at her dorm for weeks before she gave in and took it for herself. No one seemed to miss it. The little girl smiles. The hat fits her better than it could ever fit B'Elanna and she smiles back before she rises. 

"Bless you! Thank you!" She says something that B'Elanna's translator doesn't catch but she's sure it's only another praise in her native tongue. 

"You're welcome." She offers a warm smile. "Stay warm." B'Elanna turns around then to continue walking. While she's warmed from the interaction, she tugs her PADD from her pocket to check the coordinates again while walking. She drops it with a swear and abandons her happy resolve when some _petaQ_ bumps into her. She looks up into blue eyes surrounded by blond hair. The effect of the snow falling around him and on his hair and lashes is entrancing. 

"S-sorry." His hands are on her biceps to steady her when she sways forward. She reprimands herself for wanting to brush the snow from his hair. His open face makes her think he'd laugh at that. "I got it." He stoops to pick up her PADD, suddenly breaking the connection, and hands it to her. Their hands brush in the process. He grimaces. "My god, you're freezing." His hands are wrapped around one of hers, the one without the PADD. She thinks it awfully intimate for someone on the street but she can't find the anger to protest. She's freezing and he's warm. "Why don't you have a hat at least?" She shrugs and shivers. 

"I gave it to a beggar girl. Her lips were blue." 

"Your nose is red." She touches her nose with the hand holding her PADD, careful not to poke herself in the eye. Her nose is numb and feels raw under the back of her hand. The stranger's eyes drift above her eyes and B'Elanna internally prepares for the worst. Klingons still aren't very popular at the Academy. One of the orientation groups she'd been placed in made a few harsh jokes before anyone even noticed she was there. "You're Klingon?" 

"Half," she says like that changes anything. He steps a little closer. B'Elanna tells herself that it's because he's trying to keep her from freezing—Klingons are well-known for being bad at the cold. Her alarms are going off anyway. Is he trying to get fresh with her? 

"Where are you going?" Why does he need to know? She'd been expecting a Klingon-themed pick-up line, but maybe he hadn't thought of any. Is he subtly asking if she's seeing anyone or if she's willing to go back with him? The truth should close either of those doors of questioning. 

"Job interview at St. Mary's." He purses his lips. She wonders what he's thinking. 

"Take my jacket." Before she can protest, he has let go of her hand and slipped it off of his shoulders. It's the crimson and black uniform jacket command track students wear in their final year. She wonders what his first assignment will be. "I'm almost home anyway." B'Elanna had opted out of wearing her cadet uniform so she could appear a little more sophisticated at the interview and not like she'd just gotten out of class. She flushes when he helps her slip the jacket on her. It smells like him and the cold air. 

"How will I get it back to you?" She asks as he zips the uniform all the way up. It's loose on her so his hand doesn't touch her chest. She dimly wonders what the hell is wrong with her for accepting his help. Her mother would have her hide. 

"You're a cadet?" She nods, already feeling a bit warmer as the blood in her chest circulates to the rest of her body. 

"Yeah." 

"So am I. Senior." He gives her a cross between an apologetic look and an embarrassed one. "Though you probably already guessed that." If he's embarrassed, she's uneasy. She's only a freshmen. He's a senior on his way out. Who's to say he hasn't got ulterior motives? "I live right over there." B'Elanna follows his pointing finger that cuts a path to the tall dorm next to hers. "Room 454 right at the end of the hall." She nods and takes a step backwards. 

"Okay, I'll bring it back." 

"No rush." He smiles and jogs past her before seeming to remember something. "Hey Popsicle!" She turns around. He looks at her dumbly. "Don't tell me your name's Popsicle?" She can't help it. She laughs. 

"It's B'Elanna." She shouts, stressing the native sway of the first syllable and finding herself hoping he'll catch on. 

"I'm Tom." She waves habitually. He chuckles and points at the clouds. Her hand drops. "Sorry your first impression of us is snow, B'Elanna." To her delight, he sways the first syllable too. "It’s not always like this." B'Elanna smiles. 

"Thanks. Good to know." She turns around still smiling and wonders if there's a little skip in her step. What would her mother think? Her crushing on a human. Practically a stranger right now. Her lecture on not trusting humans drifts to her mind. She wonders if she should call home. But then, B'Elanna already closed that door when she decided to leap into the Academy scholarship she'd earned. It didn't pay for books—which is why she needs the job—but it paid for classes, housing, and food. Her mother had carried around the house wearing her silent cold shoulder up until B'Elanna left. She'd hugged her goodbye and wished her luck but B'Elanna had a feeling that had more to do with the fact that the recruiter had come by to make sure she got to Earth safely. The recruiter commented on how few Klingons they could give scholarships to and they didn't want to loose B'Elanna. 

B'Elanna turns the final corner and sees the entrance to the hospital. Once inside the lobby she checks her notes again. They say to inquire at the main desk. B'Elanna stows her PADD and approaches the desk. She has to wait a moment for the kid and his mother in front of her to be helped. 

"Hi, I'm here for the job flyer about—" 

"Sorry, we aren't looking for any more pilots." B'Elanna's flustered. The woman looks past her at the next person in line but whoever it is doesn't step up since B'Elanna hasn't moved. 

"I'm not a pilot." She wonders if that's what Tom does. He seems too happy-go-lucky to be heading for a captaincy. Pilot would suit him. "I'm an engineer." The woman at the desk looks at her apologetically and rifles through a set of PADDs in front of her until she finds the right one. She fidgets with it while talking. 

"Sorry, we've had a lot of disappointed pilots come in today." Her eyes linger on her jacket. "And you're wearing red...." 

"Oh," B'Elanna unzips the jacket and throws it over her arm. She doesn't want another miscommunication. "A..." Stranger on the street? Acquaintance? Classmate? "A friend lent it to me because it's so cold." The woman instantly understands. 

"Ah, yes, pesky Klingon blood huh?" B'Elanna's annoyed but she hopes it doesn't show outwardly. 

"Yes, it is." She practices her official reply. She needs to get used to them if she's going to make it through the Academy. The woman hands her the PADD. 

"Just fill this out and bring it back to me when you're finished. I'll let them know you're ready when you do." B'Elanna nods and takes the PADD. She goes to an empty corner of the bright waiting room to answer the questions. They start with innocent enough questions: her name, year, major. There's a section on voluntary self-identification on underrepresented religion, sexuality, and species. She feels a little guilty filling in her Klingon answers for religion and species. She has to think a little for the sexuality question. It's a bit ridiculous. Her mother's warnings had kept her away from interested humans. And to be perfectly honest, most were dull anyway. But that only left other Klingons and they sure weren't interested in a scrawny halfling like her. If the Federation had a bias against Klingons. Klingons had a grudge against halflings. B'Elanna checks bisexual because she doesn't really know for sure one way or another and continues with the questionnaire. 

It asks about her current classes. She puts Starfleet principals and practices, the prime directive: a historic study, quantum mechanics with lab, and cutting edge designs: propulsion. The first two every new cadet has to take but the second two were her choice. She'd actually placed into quantum mechanics and it's a source of pride for her. B'Elanna hopes they see it for the accomplishment it is. The form prompts her for any projects she's involved with, past or present. She puts none. She types her quantum mechanics professor's email as a reference and makes a mental note to tell her about it. She doesn't think she'll mind—Professor Dolna was impressed with her freshman status since she's the only freshman in the class—but B'Elanna hadn't actually asked her permission. B'Elanna hopes they don't send her a reference request before she can talk to her. She responds to the question about how she heard about the job with the "Flyer" option and quickly skims her answers for typos or mistakes. There are none. She signs, presses "Submit" at the bottom of the page, and returns to the desk to give the PADD back. 

A petite man fetches her after a few minutes and introduces himself as Ricardo Perez. He's a little older than her, but not by much she guesses. That's an assumption he proves after mentioning senior year at the Academy three years ago in an effort to relate to her. 

"I haven't quite settled in myself." It's true, but it seems odd to be discussing her lack of social skills at a job interview. Ricardo takes it in stride. 

"The first year is always the hardest. New school, new people, new place for some. Forgive me, I must ask. Where did you grow up? We don't see too many Klingon in the Bay Area." 

"Half. I'm half-Klingon from my mother's side." She shrugs. Seems she'll be explaining this a lot while she's here. Might as well get used to it. "I grew up on Kessik IV. Have you heard of it?" 

"No." Ricardo leans back in his chair, showing his interest with his open body and attentive eyes. 

"It's a little colony planet halfway between Qo'noS and Earth. My dad was from Earth." She recalls Ricardo's Hispanic names and the fact that he's speaking a Spanish dialect at her. Her translator only has to help a few times. "Columbia," the country rolls off her tongue like an old song, "actually." 

"I'm from Spain myself, but Columbia was nice when I visited for spring break my...oh...sophomore? year." There's an awkward silence. 

"At the risk of sounding impatient, what does my heritage have to do with the job offer?" Ricardo leans forward and shuffles a few papers on his desk nervously. 

"I apologize. I like to get to know the people I'm going to be working with." B'Elanna's eyes widen. 

"You mean I'm _hired_?" Ricardo smiles kindly. 

"A freshman in quantum mechanics with Dolna? Are you kidding? I still have nightmares about her classes." He chuckles. "Of course you're hired. We'd like to start you with a senior engineer while you learn how to repair the supply shuttles. But I don't think that will be longer than a week. Of course, you're welcome to still go to her for help, but you strike me as a quick learner. The benefits are health insurance through the hospital, limited dental and eye care, daily access to the staff cafeteria, and, of course, the pay. We have students on a performance scale depending on hours completed and overall ability. How does 20 credits an hour sound?" It sounds great. B'Elanna wants to shout. She's got a job! A real job doing real engineering! 

"That sounds perfect!" She tries to rein back her excitement but she isn't sure how successful she is. Ricardo's eyes twinkle knowingly. "When can I start?" He shrugs. 

"As soon as you're able. We're pretty flexible when it comes to students." B'Elanna gives that some thought. She still has to get books for class, but she also wants to know what her schedule is like before she commits to any time. 

"How about next Monday at 8? That way I can get a feel for my academic workload and give you a better picture of what I can do in a week." 

"No problem." Ricardo stands and offers his hand. B'Elanna stands and grasps it, careful to be firm but not too firm. Ricardo matches her grip. "When you come in on Monday, check in at the main desk and Yana will introduce you to your mentor." He lets go of her hand. "We're happy to have you, B'Elanna," he says with a smile. Ricardo doesn't give her name the proper sway but B'Elanna doesn't care. She's too happy. Today's been crazy! She thanks Ricardo and Yana, dons Tom's jacket, and heads back for campus. 

**=/\=**

"I'm telling you the truth, man. There's a Half-Klingon in the new class and she's cute." Tom pushes away his homework—quantum mechanics for pilots—and procrastinates by talking with William, his roommate. 

"Ha. I knew a Klingon once. Don't let her catch you calling her cute." His voice is completely serious. "She'll gut you." William looks up from his computer. "Wait, is that why you didn't have your jacket when you got back? I swear I saw you in it this morning." Tom smirks. 

"Yeah." William laughs. 

"What'd you do? Strip for her?" 

"It's ten Centigrade outside!" William chuffs. 

"Somehow, I don't think that'd stop you...." His expression is suggestive and teasing all at the same time. It reminds Tom why they'd opted to room together even as seniors. William's good company. 

"No." Tom laughs. "Probably not. But this way I'll be guaranteed to see her again." William looks at him in confusion. "She promised to return it." 

"I wouldn't exactly call that a date." 

"Who says I want to date her?" 

"You said she's cute." William shrugs. "Unless you're telling me you swing both ways?" He wiggles his eyebrows. Tom throws his pencil case at William. William dodges it with a laugh. 

"Seriously, William? We are never going to sleep together. You've got Ricardo remember?" 

"Puh-lease, Tommy." Tom narrows his eyes at the nickname. "Have you seen yourself lately? I'm sure if I told Ricardo, he'd be happy for me." William wiggles his eyebrows, "might want a video for us later, but happy." 

"You're something else you know that?" Tom reprimands playfully. 

"Oh I know. Enough about me. What about this mystery girl?" 

"Her name's B'Elanna." Tom loves the way the beginning of her name sways around his tongue. He could say it all day. "I almost ran her over on my way back here. She was going to an interview at St. Mary's." William raises his eyebrow at the mention of Tom's own internship location. 

"Do you know what for?" Tom shrugs. 

"No idea. I hear they've been looking for engineers for the shuttles—" 

"You haven't been doing tricks in them have you?" Tom's lip quirks. 

"Maybe." 

"She's _definitely_ going to gut you. Engineers get attached to their babies." Tom shrugs. 

"Whatever. You interrupted me." William holds his hands up in defeat. 

"Sorry, sorry, _please_ continue." 

"She was on her way to her interview and—you took xenobiology right?" William nods. "Well you know Klingons don't do cold well. Her nose was red and her lips were blue. I almost didn't notice except that when I bumped her, she dropped her PADD and I brushed her hand with I gave it back to her. Get this: she'd given her hat to a little beggar girl because _her_ lips were blue." 

"Aw," William says sarcastically, "so sweet." Tom glares. 

"Well, _I_ thought so. She's probably first-generation Academy, being half-Klingon and all. The hat probably set her back and she just _gave it away_." Tom decides that when she returns his jacket, he'll take a bit of his money to buy her a warm hat or scarf or jacket. She'll need it. This year is supposed to get frigid. Also, it isn't like he's strapped for cash even though his internship is unpaid. His father's monthly allowance is more than enough to get by on and he didn't use it that much so his savings had gotten fat. "I gave her my jacket because she'd probably freeze to death before she ever got back." 

"Aw, so sweet," William echoes. Tom wishes he still had his pencil case to throw. "I know, I know." William throws the pencil case back to Tom who catches it. Instead of the case, however, Tom throws his pillow. It hits William square in the face. He laughs and settles it next to him with the others. "What's she look like?" 

"She's short. Like five five or five six. She's got a little button nose, but she's got this thin ridge that leads down to it and—" 

"Woah, PG Tom. P. G." Tom laughs. 

"That _is_ PG!" 

"Not the way _you_ tell it. I feel like I'm hearing a porno." 

"Is it good at least?" Tom smirks as he asks. 

"I don't know. You tell me!" Tom nods appreciatively as B'Elanna's face comes to his mind. He isn't even thinking about anything else. Her face is entrancing enough. 

"It's good." 

"Don't have too much fun. It's cold and I don't want to go to the library to study." 

"You could go to the common room." 

"Yeah, well you could keep it in your pants." Tom raises his hands in defense. For all William's teasing, he wouldn't actually be happy if Tom came on to him or tried anything funny in his presence. They're good friends and it'd just be weird. Plus, William and Ricardo are very happy together, judging by the number of times this week _alone_ that he's been sex-iled from his room. He's going to be hard-pressed to have any time with the mysterious B'Elanna. He tamps that thought down quickly. They'd only just met and she was a freshman. She probably has better things to do than bump uglies with a senior. The door chimes. Tom looks at it with curiosity. William looks up too. 

"Expecting anyone?" 

"No." Tom starts. But then he wonders if it's B'Elanna returning his jacket. He stands up quickly to answer the door in the middle of the second chime. Sure enough, the little woman is on the other side. 

"Hi." 

"Hi." Tom hears William shift to get a better view no doubt. "Want to come in? We're just studying." Tom winces inwardly. She hardly knows him. It probably seems like he's trying to put a move on her. 

"I, um," She peers around him into the room and waves sheepishly at William. "Alright." Tom mentally thanks his gay roommate for putting her at ease. She moves to step inside, but his oversized jacket hem catches on a door hinge. He hears a tearing sound. These dorms are the few places on campus that still use the old-fashioned doorways. They'd been a holdover from when the college was the main state school in San Francisco. B'Elanna jumps back and frowns while examining the damage. There's a large hole where the bottom piping meets the regular fabric. It's along a seam line so it won't be hard to fix, but B'Elanna doesn't seem to know that. 

"_Hu'tegh_." Tom wonders at the swear that his translator didn't catch. "I'm so sorry." She looks up with concern. "You only get three of these right? I'll pay for a replacement." Tom holds up his hand to stop her as he steps toward his desk. He digs into the middle drawer for the small sewing kit his mother'd given him his first year. 

"It's alright." He shows her the sewing kit. "I can fix it." B'Elanna sheds the jacket carefully and hands it to him across the threshold like she's worried she'll tear it again. She steps in after he has it in his hand and surveys the room, looking for a place to sit. There's his bed (covered in homework), William's (covered in pillows), both of their computer chairs (which aren't that comfortable), and William's oversized beanbag (empty and in between the beds under the window). She settles into it. Tom matches the thread color, picks a needle, and goes back to his bed, gingerly avoiding the strewn PADDs until he's back where he started. B'Elanna digs a PADD from her pocket and tries to look busy, but Tom catches her sneaking glances at him. Eventually, she gives up the pretense and just watches him add stitches to the inside-out hem of his jacket. When he's finished, he cuts the thread with a pair of scissors from his pencil case and sticks the needle into the cloth board above his head. He rights the jacket and shows it to B'Elanna. 

"Fixed." Tom's actually a little glad she'd torn it. He can feel his imperfect stitches at the seam and knows immediately that this is going to be his favorite jacket. Tom tosses it over his remaining pillow. B'Elanna smiles and gestures to the mess of PADDs. 

"What were you working on?" Tom grimaces. 

"Quantum mechanics for pilots. It's the worst." She kneels at the edge of the bed and picks up the closest PADD. He expects her to throw it down with a 'tough luck' comment, but she surprises him. She looks up at him and tilts the PADD away from her face to point at a problem. 

"You've got this one wrong." 

"No offense, but aren't you a freshman?" Maybe he'd guessed wrong. 

"I am. I'm taking Dolna's quantum mechanics class with lab." 

"Ooo. Fancy," William chimes. Tom looks up at his friend. He mouths: Cute _and_ smart, accenting the 'and' with rising eyebrows. 

"So you're trying to be an engineer?" 

"Mmhmm." She tilts the PADD back to her face and enters a few units, slides a square root to the other side, and hands it back to Tom. "Here, the first one's free," she teases. He'd known the units were wrong but he'd chosen to ignore that. He didn't need to know quantum mechanics as a pilot so long as his engineer knows it. And he's a good pilot. He's bound to get a good engineer. Maybe one as gifted as B'Elanna. The thought of working with her one day surprisingly lifts his spirits. But her comment reminds him. 

"Speaking of free," she narrows her eyes with suspicion, "let me buy you some warm clothing?" He'd changed his offer to a question at the last second so as not to seem like he's pushing for a date. She seems surprised by the offer. 

"Oh, uh. No, I couldn't. I actually just got a job. I'll be fine." Tom's irrationally disappointed that she doesn't accept without question. It's good she got a job—he realizes that means it's at St. Mary's—but he'd still like to spend time with her more if he can. 

"Please, I insist. It's no big deal," Tom tries to save the opportunity. William makes an attempt too. 

"Tommy's daddy makes the big bucks. He's an admiral for Starfleet." Tom chafes a little under the acknowledgement, but William's already saved the evening once. Who's to say he can't do it again? B'Elanna mulls it over. 

"Okay. Tomorrow after Quantum? Lab ends at four." 

"Tomorrow," Tom agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry friends, you'll all have to wait for the day _after_ tomorrow for the next part. In the mean time, we'll have _dragons_.


End file.
